


Domestic

by Zaeris



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Arguing, Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-06
Updated: 2014-01-06
Packaged: 2018-01-07 16:20:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1121958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zaeris/pseuds/Zaeris
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Honestly Lestrade,” Sherlock said, continuing on as if Greg's faux pas hadn't occurred. Greg was almost glad that the sleuth was so quick to change the subject and protect John from any more uncomfortable memories, but then the man continued. “Why am I even sleeping with you if it doesn't result in certain privileges with regards to your employment?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Domestic

Detective Inspector Lestrade glanced up as he pushed his key into the lock of 221B Baker street. Despite having resided there for a little over a month now, he still thought of it as Sherlock and John's flat most days. Sometimes, like today, he felt more like a house-guest who'd greatly overstayed his welcome than a partner in their relationship. Sighing he turned the key and pushed the door open. He glanced over at Mrs. Hudson's door, hopeful that he might be able to delay going upstairs and maybe nick a biscuit or two. Sadly, the door was shut tight meaning that the landlady was either in for the night or possibly out visiting friends.

Greg wished he had someone to go visit to take his mind off of the shite day he'd just endured. Used to be he'd just ring John up and make a pub night of it when work was total rubbish. Too bad he'd likely botched that up by getting involved with both the army doctor and his high functioning sociopath flatmate. Running a hand tiredly over his face, Greg started up the stairs to the flat. The door was cracked open and he could hear the sound of the telly creeping out onto the landing. Steeling his resolve, Greg pushed the door open and stepped into the flat.

“Hey Greg,” John said.

He was sprawled back on the sofa, beer in hand. Must have been a busy day at the clinic. Greg gave him a nod and opened his mouth to ask if Sherlock was home when he heard the sound of glass shattering from the kitchen. 

“Sherlock?” John asked.

“Fine.”

"Anything bleeding?” 

“I said I was fine, John.” 

“Right, sorry I asked,” John said with a roll of his eyes.

Greg hung his coat and made his way cautiously over to the sofa.

“He's been in a strop since I got home, won't say why,” John told him as he sat up and made room for the D.I. 

“I might've had something to do with that actually,” Greg admitted as he slid in to sit beside the doctor. 

“Don't flatter yourself, Lestrade,” Sherlock snapped from the kitchen table.

He had his back to the sitting room. Greg could see the tension in the way the younger man held himself in his chair, pointedly ignoring them.

“Sherlock, if you wanna talk about what happened earlier I'm right here.” Greg leaned forward and braced himself for the onslaught.

“Why would I want to do that? Clearly the opinion of those insufferable cretins you work with is far more important than actually solving crimes.” And there it was. Even now Sherlock didn't seem to understand why he'd had to tell him to clear off earlier.

“You can't just take over my cases whenever you feel like it.”

“Why not?”

“Why not? Because solving those cases is my job, Sherlock. Those people you're constantly insulting are my team and I need them to work with me if I'm going to get anywhere with my investigations.”

“Perhaps if you'd ever actually solve some cases on your own I wouldn't need to take them over.”

“Sherlock,” John said firmly. Greg glanced over, he'd been getting so worked up he'd nearly forgotten the other man was present. 

“John,” Sherlock bite back glaring over his shoulder at the shorter man. John sat up straighter, holding himself with a measure of authority.

“What happened?”

“You mean what did **I** do this time?”

“I didn't say that.”

“You didn't have to, I can hear you thinking it.” 

Greg cleared his throat before speaking. “He felt the need to show up at a crime scene and tell my new forensics lead that she was handling the body with the skill of a lobotomized gorilla before ordering my Sargent to, and I quote, stop wasting air unless he had something insightful to contribute to the conversation.”

“A perfectly reasonable request given the level of incompetence of your new team.” Sherlock said, pushing the chair back to turn and glare at them.

“Look, I know nobody lives up to your standards, but as I have to work with these people I'd really appreciate it if you didn't turn this lot on you like last time.”

John's head snapped around so fast Greg thought he might have hurt himself, but the doctor's gaze was level with his own when John told him quietly, “let's not go there.”

“Sorry Mate,” Greg said feeling like he'd just slapped the man. He reached over to rest a hand on John's knee by way of apology. John just gave him a weak smile and a nod. One of the major rules they'd established when they'd all agreed to this relationship was that under no circumstances were any of them to make mention of what had happened when Sherlock had gone up against Moriarty.

At first Greg had been worried that Sherlock was bitter that he hadn't believed him about the psycho who'd tried to destroy them all, but he'd quickly learned that the rule was entirely for John's benefit. While the blonde wasn't the type to hold secret grudges, the time while Sherlock had been 'dead' was still too sensitive a topic to broach. Hell, the poor bloke still had nightmares about watching his friend fall and that had been before the two had become lovers.

“Honestly Lestrade,” Sherlock said, continuing on as if Greg's faux pas hadn't occurred. Greg was almost glad that the sleuth was so quick to change the subject and protect John from any more uncomfortable memories, but then the man continued. “Why am I even sleeping with you if it doesn't result in certain privileges with regards to your employment?”

Greg jerked his hand away from John's knee and glared up at the dark haired man who was watching him expectantly. The air in the room seemed to become positively frigid as he struggled to formulate a response.

“Is... Is that what I'm doing here then?” He asked.

“Boys, I think we all need to take a breather,” John said casting a concerned look Greg's way.

“Don't be rude John, Lestrade finally asked a good question,” Sherlock said.

“No, he didn't and you owe him an apology,” John snapped.

“Naw, it's fine. Good to know actually. I'm gonna head up to bed now if it's all the same to you lot,” Greg said.

He stood up and quickly made his way across the messy sitting room, stumbling only slightly. John called out to him as he hit the stairs and fled the room for the safety of the upstairs bedroom. He shut the door behind him more forcefully than was strictly necessary and leaned back against it trying to suck in a good breath as the air around him seemed to become too thick.

His head was pounding with the sudden spike of adrenaline that had sent him scrambling from the situation downstairs. His thoughts threatened to overwhelm him as they crashed through his mind striking hard at every worry and insecurity he'd ever entertained since agreeing to this mad endeavor. Slowly he slid his way down to the floor, his back pressed firmly against the closed door to keep from collapsing utterly.

Greg couldn't make out the wisps of conversation that floated up from the lower floor, but he could infer that his departure had sparked an argument. _I shouldn't even be here. I only ever make things worse._

He heard the creak of a foot on the step and shuddered. That would be John, dear sweet loyal John who would come and apologize for Sherlock and tell him that the man hadn't meant what he'd said. Only Sherlock was a genius who had said exactly what he meant without any regard for how it would be received because that's just how he was and they both bloody well knew it.

Greg felt a sharp pang in his heart at the knowledge that giving up this arrangement necessarily meant giving up John as well. What had begun as merely a professional friendship and admiration had turned into genuine affection for the small army doctor. Sherlock might be gorgeous to look at and brilliant beyond compare, but John was the stabilizing force in their unique relationship. A force which Greg had come to rely upon far too quickly to be strictly comfortable.

Still, John would never abandon Sherlock. He might complain about him more than anyone else, but it didn't take a genius to see how much John loved that bastard. Something in the back of his mind had always felt the need to remind Greg of this fact. That while Sherlock and John might have welcomed him into their home and their bed, he would always be an outsider. A firm knock against the door broke Greg from his musing.

“Alright Greg?” John asked.

“Stupendous, you?”

“Mind if I come in?”

“If you like. Give us a second.” Greg sighed and pushed himself back to his feet rubbing at his face with the heel of his hand. For his part, John just waited patiently on the other side of the door. Between the three of them the doctor was by far the most respectful when it came to giving the others privacy. Probably because it was a thing he himself prized so highly. When he finally decided he had recovered enough to face the man, Greg slowly opened the door wincing only slightly at the light blinding him from the stairway.

“Yeah, so I've got a shift tomorrow if you don't mind some company,” John said.

“Right, come on in.” Greg moved aside and walked over to his side of the bedroom. Technically the three of them shared Sherlock's bedroom downstairs, but if one or both Greg or John had work early in the morning it wasn't uncommon for them to kip upstairs so as not to disturb the others. The added sound barrier from whatever mayhem Sherlock was up to downstairs in the middle of the night was just a nice bonus.

Greg slogged off his suit jacket and rested it over a chair in the corner before unbuttoning his shirt. He hadn't really wanted to go to bed yet, but if John wanted to rest he didn't want to keep the man up all night with his problems. John had shut the door behind him before clicking on a lamp. He watched Greg carefully as he folded his jumper and began his own preparations for bed. Greg was down to just his pants and a vest when John finally broke the silence that had settled over them.

“You know he's wrong, right?”

“He's never wrong. Just takes the rest of us awhile to catch on.”

“Greg.”

“It's fine John. Like I said, better to find out now, right?”

“No, it is absolutely not fine. He's always a prick when he knows he's in the wrong.” John kicked his own trousers off and glared firmly at his lover.

Greg closed his eyes and sought his resolve. He'd always told himself that if things when south he'd be the better man and bow out gracefully. “Look, it was good, yeah, but maybe it's for the best if I find a new flat before things get weird.”

“I don't want you to go Greg. He doesn't either, you know that.”

“I... appreciate that John, you don't know how much, but I don't want to be the reason you guys don't work,” Greg said as he sat down on the edge of the bed. His heart was pounding and he wasn't sure he could continue to hold himself upright under the doctor's constant scrutiny.

John moved with surprising grace for such a compact fellow. He was around the bed and clutching at Greg's shoulder before the D.I. had even heard him start to move. “That is utter bullshit, you know why? Because this isn't about me and Sherlock. This is about all of us and you are part of that.”

“For how long?” Greg asked looking up at his friend with a sad smile.

“What do you mean?”

“How long until you two decide that you don't need me? How long before leaving isn't even a choice because I'm in too far over my head, but I'm no longer welcome?”

“That isn't going to happen.” John insisted.

“I won't blame you John, hell I've seen him when he's all quiet and undone and fucking beautiful. How's a regular bloke like me supposed to compare to that?”

Greg waited for John to protest or maybe even just accept the truth of the matter and head back downstairs to be with their other lover. What he wasn't expecting was the doctor to cup his cheek and pull their lips together hard. The soft gasp of surprise this moved elicited from the D.I. was encouragement enough for John, who took advantage of parted lips to delve further inside the man's mouth. Greg was hesitant to return the kiss until he felt John climb onto the bed straddling his lap. Instinctively he reached to secure the man's hips and hold him in place as he tongue moved to caress along John's bottom lip.

When John finally broke the kiss off they were both panting softly. Greg looked up at the man noticing the slight blush that crept across his cheeks and the slick wetness that coated his lips.

“Tell me you didn't feel anything,” John said.

“I can't.”

“Me neither,” John said leaning in for another, far more chaste kiss along the D.I.'s jawline. “The way I feel about you isn't dependent on Sherlock. What the three of us have? It's complicated to understand, believe me I've tried, but whenever I'm with either of you or both I know it feels right. If you can't tell me that you don't feel the same than I'm not about to let you give up on us.”

John shifted so he could rest his head against the D.I.'s his eyes shut tightly as he waited for a response. Greg's tongue darted out to lick his own lips, still slick with the taste of John. “I don't want to give you up, either of you, but I can't just be playing gooseberry for the rest of my life.”

John snorted and opened his eyes, “I told Sherlock the same thing when he suggested this whole arrangement.”

“Bullshit,” Greg said causing John to chuckle. The doctor climbed off of the man's lap and sat beside him instead. Greg reached over and rubbed John's leg where he knew the man still felt sore sometimes. “Why would you think you were the odd man out?”

“After he came back, we talked, quite a bit actually.” John said, his gaze wandering away. Greg took his hand, interlacing their fingers to let the man know he was right there if needed. “He knew I was a wreck without him. We'd only just begun testing the waters when he suggested asking you to join us.”

“And you what? Went along with it to make him happy?”

“No, of course not. I told him he was a selfish git if he thought I'd be okay with him sleeping with someone else.”

“Then why did you ask me?” Greg asked, frowning.

“Because Sherlock told me that we needed each other and after I calmed down a bit I realized he was right.”

“John, I want to believe that. You've no idea how much, but I just...” Greg bit down on his lip to try to keep from sounding as wrecked as he felt.

“I need you Greg, I need you and I want you,” John said slowly. He leaned towards the D.I. brushing their lips together softly, but not pressing forward enough to properly kiss him. Greg knew the doctor was asking him to join, asking him to give himself over to their unusual relationship and while he wanted more than anything to reassure John that he both wanted and needed him back he couldn't help but worry that doing so would be unkind in the long run. 

Greg jerked back suddenly as the bed dipped down behind them with the weight of the world's only consulting detective. “Shit, Sherlock.”

“Don't mind him, he's just getting impatient. He can bloody well wait his turn,” John said pulling Greg's face back towards his own.

Greg's eyes flashed back to the man in his arms, trying to ignore the annoyed sound that escaped from the one resting on the bed behind them. John watched him carefully his fingers sliding slowly along his jaw. “What do you want Greg?”

“I'm not sure,” Greg said.

“Wrong,” Sherlock replied.

“Nobody asked you,” Greg snapped back over his shoulder and noticing for the first time that Sherlock was clad in only his dressing gown sprawled elegantly across the small bed. Greg could see the naked flesh of the younger man's chest between the folds of the fabric. When Greg looked back up to the man's face Sherlock just smirked at him, having clearly noticed the D.I.'s wandering eyes.

“Sherlock, tell Greg what you told me before,” John said. Greg caught a hint of smugness in the man's tone that wasn't usually present. Before he could comment he saw Sherlock's cheeks flush red as the man struggled to sit upright under the sudden scrutiny.

“I'm not sure what you mean,” Sherlock said when he had finally recovered into a posture that looked vaguely nonchalant.

“You were listening in on our whole conversation, you know exactly what I mean.”

“John, I fail to see how it's relevant to our current circumstances.”

“Tell him. He deserves to know.”

Greg's eyes darted between the two men like he was watching a well timed tennis match. Despite John's insistence he wasn't sure he wanted to hear what Sherlock had to say. Wasn't sure he could deal with it another blow like the one he'd taken downstairs.

Sherlock rolled his eyes dramatically before letting his gaze rest on Greg. “I quit drugs for you.”

Greg waited for the man to explain what the hell he was on about, but Sherlock seemed to consider the matter well and handled because he just sat watching the D.I. expectantly. Finally Greg just shook his head. “No you didn't.”

“I did.”

“No, your brother made you go to rehab. I was there when he picked you up.”

“When have you ever known me to do anything my brother made me?” Sherlock asked, his face twisted in disgust by the implication. Greg caught John smiling from the corner of his eye and turned to see if the army doctor was somehow in on whatever lark Sherlock was constructing.

“It's true, if anything he'd have gotten worse just to spite Mycroft,” John said.

“Right, so how do you figure I fit into this equation?” Greg asked, turning his attention back to Sherlock.

“Before I... overindulged the final time I helped you track down a suspect. It was amazing, I thought if I could just feel like that all the time I'd never need drugs again.”

“Fine, you like solving cases and you can't do that when you're blitzed out of your senses,” Greg said. “Still doesn't have anything to do with me.”

Sherlock shifted a bit and looked over at John who was leaning back against the headboard watching them both. John gave him a bemused smile. “Go on then.”

Sherlock sighed and nodded. “I thought I could have both, the cases and the drugs, but I... miscalculated the dose and then you found me. Up until this point in my life I'd made a successful career at disappointing people. I expected you to be yet another in a long line who saw what a mess I'd become and decided to wash your hands of me.”

Greg's eyes softened as he suddenly realized where this conversation was going. Sherlock had stopped meeting his gaze by this point and continued on. “You took me home to your horrid little flat and took care of me through the worse of my withdrawals. You could have just called my brother and been done with it, but you cleaned me up and let me pretend to keep my dignity when he finally came to take me to rehab. Afterward, when I got back you were the only one who trusted me again. You gave me another chance. It took me a long time to realize how few people would have done that.”

“Course I did, still would do,” Greg interrupted. Sherlock looked back up as if he'd been startled out of his own memories.

“I still need that, Greg,” Sherlock admitted. “I need you every bit as much as I need John, every bit as much as he needs you. Before this relationship started I spent countless hours running through every possible scenario in my head. In the end the only conclusion I could be sure of was that I wouldn't be able to make either of you happy in the long run. I needed you both, but I wasn't what either of you needed so I devised a compromise.”

“Idiot,” Greg said, his smile taking any bite out of his words. “Of course I need you.”

John moved over and put his good arm around the detective's shoulders pulling him tight against his smaller frame. “We both do, Luv.”

Sherlock gave a shuddering nod as he collected himself causing Greg's heart to flutter slightly. Even now it was still so easy to forget how fragile the insufferable man could be. Crawling forward on hands and knees Greg pulled himself over to straddle the dark-haired man and leaned in towards him until they were all but sharing a breath. “Not just for the cases then? You actually want me?”

“I already said as much,” Sherlock replied. John jabbed a finger in his side causing him to squirm and glare down at the shorter man. Realizing he was outnumbered by sentimental fools Sherlock rolled his eyes. “Yes, Greg I want you. Can we please just have sex now?”

That seemed to break the spell of seriousness that had gripped the room up until this point as John and Greg both broke into a fit of laughter which Sherlock eventually joined in on when Greg kissed him tenderly. Greg moved over to kiss John as well, since they'd been interrupted earlier.

“Alright?” John asked when they broke apart for air.

“Getting there,” Greg said with a wry grin.

Sherlock shifted himself suddenly and slid downward between Greg's legs until he was nuzzling at the front of the man's pants. As he mouthed enthusiastically along Greg's shaft the D.I. took the time to resume kissing the army doctor splayed out in front of him. John rose up to meet him so Greg wouldn't lose his balance and kissed him back with a patience that teased at so much more to come. Greg wasn't surprised to feel himself growing heavy and thick between his legs.

He felt Sherlock scrambling along his hips trying to divest him of his pants only to realize that it was a losing battle with the way Greg's legs were spread to allow him access. Chuckling at the sleuths muted sounds of annoyance Greg finished he kiss with John before giving the man a wink and climbing off of Sherlock. He seated himself leaned back against the headboard and held his arms out for the dark-haired man who pushed himself upright and crawled forward, eager to take up where he'd left off.

Greg lifted his hips off the bed so Sherlock could remove his pants and moved his arms to allow John to take off his vest. Sherlock nuzzled against his neck, laying alternatively soft and biting kisses down his chest. Greg pushed the mostly opened dressing gown back to reveal the man's pale, slender shoulders. He let his callused fingers smooth the skin there as Sherlock worked himself lower, throwing an occasional lick into his repertoire.

John got off the bed a moment and when he returned to Greg's line of sight he was completely naked as well. Wasting no time, John pulled the dressing gown all the way off revealing the hard compact planes of Sherlock's nude form. Greg felt his breath catch in his throat at the hungry way Sherlock looked up at him through his stupidly pretty eyelashes. John slide his hands along Sherlock's back slowly until they came to rest along the man's hips where he gave them a firm jerk pulling the detective back where he wanted him.

Unfazed, Sherlock bowed his head and gave Greg's cock a tentative swipe of his tongue. Greg let his hand rest along the back of the man's head just above the nape of that elegant neck, twisting carefully into the dark curls he found there. He felt Sherlock's tongue graze along his glans before moving down his shaft to press his nose into the patch of hair he found there.

Glancing up, Greg caught John watching the whole thing, his pupils blown wide with arousal at the two men spread out before him. Greg watched John toss aside the lube he'd retrieved earlier and rub his hand gently along Sherlock's spine. The doctor had positioned himself between the detective's knee and wasted no time in rubbing his lube slicked finger across the man's puckered entrance. Greg felt the sharp intake of breath against his shaft when Sherlock realized what John had in mind for him. Never one to back down from a challenge the detective made his way back up, kissing and licking and teasing the whole way, to the tip of Greg's engorged cock. Once there he ran his tongue over and inside the slit. Greg was beginning to wonder why the man wouldn't just take him when all at once the felt the soothing warmth of Sherlock's mouth envelop him as the detective moaned around his length.

“It's alright Luv, I've got you,” John murmured from behind the taller man. Greg realized Sherlock had been waiting for John's finger to breach him. 

“Think you've got us both,” Greg said carding his hands through Sherlock's dark curls.

“Clever bastard,” John laughed. He stroked along Sherlock's back tenderly. “Is that what you want Sherlock? All of us together?”

Realizing he couldn’t properly articulate a response with Greg's dick pressing insistently against the roof of his mouth Sherlock let out a soft moan and pressed back against where John's finger penetrated him.

“What do you think, Greg?” John asked giving the D.I. a private wink.

“I don't know, not sure he really deserves it,” Greg replied, playing along.

It didn't take much for Sherlock to grow impatient with their teasing, he hollowed his cheeks as he sucked hard against Greg's cock while rocking back and forcing John's fingers deeper into himself. Greg gasped and gripped the duvet with his free hand.

“Alright, alright, you worry about what you're doing down there and let me take care of this, yeah?” John admonished with a light smack to the man's rounded arse. Sherlock hummed his consent and bobbed his head slowly in time with John's ministrations.

While the doctor worked to open the man up further Sherlock translated every touch along to Greg. Closing his eyes Greg realized he could almost picture exactly the way John's practiced hands moved. Shallow thrust here, deep and tight as a new finger was introduced, fluttering as the fingers scissored in tandem. When John finally curved a finger to brush along the bundle of nerves that made up Sherlock's prostate Greg already felt the heat pooling in his lower abdomen. “Ah Christ, someone's been practicing.”

Greg could just feel the curve of Sherlock's lips as the man smiled around his member. He opened his eyes again to glance back at John watching him lustfully.

“Think he can take more?” John asked, removing his fingers from Sherlock's arse and pumping his own erection.

Sherlock whined softly as his head bobbed along Greg's cock.

“Seems keen,” Greg replied shifting himself so that he held his legs wider to give the consulting detective more room. John found the lube again and slicked himself up. He rested his hands on the dark-haired man's hips as he lined himself up with the prepared entrance. The other two fell still as they waited.

“Ready Luv?” John asked, Greg's heart pounded furiously when he saw the deep blue eyes locked on his own and realized the question had been directed at him and not at Sherlock this time.

“God yes, please John,” he said.

John smiled and pressed himself into the warm heat of Sherlock's arse. The detective shuddered as his body took in John's length. John caressed him carefully, soothing the tense muscles in his lower back until the man relaxed again. Then, pulling out halfway John snapped his hips driving himself back inside up to his base.

Sherlock moaned around Greg's dick as he felt himself filled to capacity. The D.I. petted him soothingly arching his hips to bring the man back to the task at hand. Sherlock dipped his head down again letting his talented tongue caress the D.I.'s member. It took a few thrusts before Sherlock and John were able to synchronize their pace, but when they did Greg felt Sherlock sink all the way down to his elbows before reaching up with his hand to tug at Greg's bollocks.

John continued snapping his hips forward not giving Sherlock time to miss the feeling of being filled before he was reminded once more. When John began to get slightly more erratic with his thrusting he suddenly pulled at Sherlock's hips to adjust the angle casing Sherlock to cry out in gasping breaths as his prostate was assaulted over and over. It wasn't long before Sherlock lost all semblance of paying attention to what he was doing and just let Greg's cock slip free to rest against his cheek as he braced for John's impending orgasm. Greg cracked his eyes again so he could watch John's face as he finally gave in and spent his release in a flurry of swearing and moaning. 

“Oh fuck yes, fucking beautiful you two,” John panted as he planted kisses along Sherlock's back.

Sherlock whined as John pulled out of him leaving him exposed and leaking. Greg pulled Sherlock up to kiss his swollen lips, feeling the man's hardened cock brush against his own.

“What do you need Luv?” Greg asked as Sherlock ground their pelvises together.

“Fuck me, please. I need it, need you Greg.” 

Not needing any further encouragement Greg rolled the lanky man onto his back as he settled between the sleuth’s legs. He lifted Sherlock's knees and pressed himself in with a smooth, practiced motion. The detective was still gloriously opened and slick from having John only moments before. The doctor pressed himself against Greg's back, holding him tenderly as he peppered kisses along the man's shoulders. Greg grinned at him and tilted his head back to capture John's lips as he rocked himself roughly into Sherlock's waiting heat.

The detective was scrambling for purchase on the duvet, though if anyone had bothered to ask he wouldn’t' have been able to say if he was trying to escape the onslaught or impale himself further. He was left painfully aroused and oversensitive thanks to John's earlier endeavors. As such he missed John leaning in and whispering something into Greg's ear which made the D.I.'s face light up like he'd just been given a Christmas gift.

Sherlock almost sobbed with relief when Greg's strong hands finally circled around his cock and stroked him hard in time with the thrusts currently teasing his prostate.

“Getting close Sherlock?” Greg asked.

Unable to dignify such an obviously redundant question with a response Sherlock only managed to nod his head before pulling his arm up to bury his face in the crook of his elbow.

“Tell me, let me hear you,” Greg said tilting his hips just so and bringing a blinding wave of pleasure through the man beneath him.

“Cl.. close, so close. Greg, please,” Sherlock all but sobbed.

“Soon Luv, very soon, but first I need you to do something for me,” Greg said, his words accented with his own panting. He only hoped he could hold out long enough for this to work or Sherlock would never let him hear the end of it.

“Please,” Sherlock huffed. Greg felt John massaging his back reassuringly as he leaned over, letting his weight still the man beneath him.

“Tell me you're sorry for earlier. Tell me you're not going to make me look bad in front of my team anymore,” Greg whispered.

Sherlock's eyes cracked open under his arm and he groaned. “You cannot be serious.”

“Afraid so mate, I could pull out right now and leave you like this or we could both finish and feel good. Your call.”

“John?” Sherlock whined, moving his arm to search out his other lover.

“Oh no, don't bring me into this, this is something you and Greg need to work out,” John said grinning wolfishly from behind Greg's shoulder.

“This is blackmail,” Sherlock protested.

Greg rocked his hips again causing Sherlock to go silent once more. “A bit, but I can't be sharing my bed with someone who doesn't respect me in front of my team.”

“Fine, I'm sorry. I'll try to keep my observations about how ineffectual your staff is to a minimum in the future. Now for Christ's sake, will you please fuck me?”

Greg grinned and planted a kiss on the man's lips. Sherlock reached up and wrapped his arms around the D.I. holding him in place as they moved together toward their mutual completion. Greg came with a roar while Sherlock just moaned wantonly and bit into the D.I.'s shoulder to hold back his cries.

Afterward, they lay there in each others arms panting until John gently rolled Greg off so he could clean them both up with the wet flannels he'd snuck off to retrieve. Once they were passably cleaned up, John crawled in beside Greg pulling the duvet over them both and pressing himself against the man.

Greg kissed him sweetly. “Good?” he asked.

“Mmm brilliant,” John replied. He let out a yawn and rolled to his back to sleep. Having lived with Sherlock so long meant that John had learned to never pass up the opportunity to catch a few winks.

Sherlock snuggled up to Greg's back nuzzling and kissing along his exposed neck as they both watched John's jaw slacken and his eyes flutter as they man they both wanted drifted off to sleep. Realizing he was well and truly knackered himself Greg decided to join the doctor.

“I meant what I said,”Sherlock whispered, pulling Greg out of his drowsing.

“What? About the forensics lead being like a gorilla?”

“Well, yes, also.”

Greg snorted, “Great, thanks.”

“I am sorry. I didn't realize that you didn't consider yourself an equal partner in this relationship. There's always something I miss.”

“It's just strange, isn't it? Everyone always thought you and John were together anyway so it's not weird for you two, but then I move in and Dimmock's suddenly trying to set me up with his sister, like he's doing me a favor.”

“She's a gambler, her last husband left her when she lost their savings betting on horse-racing.”

“Good thing I'm not interested then,” Greg said with a sigh.

“What is it?” Sherlock asked, pushing himself up so he could lean over and examine the D.I.'s face properly in the dim light from the lamp.

“It's stupid,” Greg admitted.

“The things you worry about usually are,” Sherlock replied.

“Prat,” Greg huffed attempting to roll the man off of him without jostling John.

“Don't take it personally, most people are that way.”

“You'd know.”

“I'm sorry. Tell me what's bothering you.”

“Naw forget it.”

“Greg.” Sherlock reached to caress the D.I.'s stubbled cheek. “I know this is more John's area, but I need you to know you can talk to me too. I don't want to be left out just because I'm not as experienced with this part.”

Greg sighed and rolled over to face the curious man on his right. John snored softly behind him, blissfully unaware of the tight feeling in Greg's chest as he rested his hand on Sherlock's bare hip. “I don't want people to think I'm alone.”

“You're not alone, you have us,” Sherlock said, his head cocked slightly to the side as if trying to make out something in the way Greg's jaw clenched on the left side.

“Yeah, but nobody knows that do they? Everyone thinks you and John are a couple and that you just let me live here out of pity or sommat. I hate it, but they'd think I was a nutter if I tried to explain our situation. Hell, I don't even understand it most of the time.” Greg rolled on his back and stared at the darkened ceiling of the small room.

“That's why you think you're not needed? Because everyone erroneously assumes that John and I are the only ones involved?”

“Yeah, like I said, it's stupid, but it still eats away at me sometimes.”

“Why don't you date John then?”

Greg's face screwed up in confusion, “come again?”

Sherlock sighed as if the answer was so obvious that it was painful for him to have to spell it out. “Just tell everyone that you and John are together and that I'm your flatmate.”

“But wouldn't you be bothered by that?” Greg asked moving to put his arm around Sherlock and pull him closer.

“No, I'm used to everyone around me being wrong.”

Greg snorted at that, though he knew Sherlock was being perfectly serious. “I guess that could work, I mean if John wanted to go along with it.”

Sherlock pushed himself over the D.I. and poked a finger at John's sleeping form. “John, if anyone asks you're dating Greg.”

“Sod off, Sherlock,” John mumbled into the duvet without bothering to open his eyes.

“Sherlock,” Greg protested, shoving the man off of him and back over to the opposite side so John could rest.

“Good, that's sorted, anything else?” Sherlock asked.

“No, I think that about covers it,” Greg said with a grin.

“Get some rest then, I think our murderer will have struck again by morning,” Sherlock said, pushing himself up and recovering his dressing gown.

Greg watched him fondly as the man pulled on Greg's discarded pants and John's vest before tying the gown around his slender hips and winking back at the D.I. and doctor.

“Night, Pet.” Greg called softly as Sherlock smiled and pulled the door shut behind him. Greg turned and clicked off the lamp before rolling back to snuggle up next to John.

He rested his hand softly on John's chest watching the man breath softly. Really, nothing had changed. They could all still be together like this, they could be happy. Greg was sure that between the three of them they could find a way to make this work. He placed a chaste kiss on John's temple before he settled in for the night. 

**Author's Note:**

> Just a quick warm-up before I get to work on the second part of Family Bonds. Hope you all enjoyed it.


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